Anomaly

Chapter 398 – Worship of the true gods [44]

Emily pressed two fingers against her temple, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she let her thoughts settle. So far, nothing truly unexpected had happened, at least, nothing completely out of control.

The priest was displaying strange powers... but still, this was the [Angel of Death]. Emily had already seen that anomaly push through far worse situations, survive circumstances where any other entity would’ve been erased from existence without a trace. No, her concern wasn’t with it. It never was. The problem was humans.

She let out a quiet sigh, her gaze hardening as she stared into the distant chaos. The pattern was always the same, predictable, frustrating. A small portion remained indifferent to anomalies, pretending none of it concerned them. Another, louder and far larger group simply hated them, without nuance, without question.

And then there was the worst-case scenario: when the truth didn’t matter. Even if it was a deranged priest responsible for the destruction, even if the anomaly was, ironically, trying to contain the disaster... all eyes would still turn to it.

It was easier to blame what people already feared than to face the complexity of the situation. Emily knew that because she had seen it happen too many times. In the end, it wasn’t about logic, it was about convenience. And in moments like this, humans could be frighteningly selfish.

Pushing that aside, Emily needed information. Considering she had managed to translate at least part of what the [Angel of Death]’s sisters had said, one thing was certain: the situation wasn’t good. The problem was, she still didn’t know how bad it really was.

That thought had barely formed when another crash echoed, louder, heavier, far more destructive. This wasn’t just an ordinary impact; it sounded like something colossal had been hurled across the city, crushing everything in its path. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and for a brief second, the air itself seemed to vibrate.

Emily instinctively turned toward the wall where the mad priest had thrown the [Angel of Death]. In the distance, a massive cloud of dust rose into the sky, thick and suffocating, partially obscuring the landscape.

The chaotic blare of car alarms erupted almost immediately, a dissonant chorus that only amplified the sense of impending disaster. Her chest tightened. Swallowing hard, Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that things might be far worse than she had initially imagined. Still... it was the [Angel of Death].

She was certain the anomaly would be fine. It was strong... no, more than that, it was something close to immeasurable. In Emily’s eyes, there wasn’t a task, creature, or phenomenon that entity couldn’t face.

To be fair, several recent anomalous incidents had ended with minimal casualties thanks to its intervention. That was a fact, though few had the courage to admit it out loud.

“The [Angel of Death] will be fine...” Emily murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Her voice came out low, almost a whisper swallowed by the silence.

As she spoke, she felt the tension in her shoulders slowly ease, as if those words carried enough weight to push back her own fears. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, filling her lungs before exhaling in a controlled release: “No anomalous apocalypse... no dimensional invasion is going to happen...”

The statement sounded firm, almost like a mantra she repeated to keep her sanity intact. For a few seconds, everything felt stable. Safe, even. But Emily had forgotten one simple, and absurdly crucial, detail. Fate.

Ah... fate could be cruel. No, cruel wasn’t the right word. Sadistic. Deliberately sadistic. Emily knew that better than anyone. She had seen too many improbable coincidences to ignore, events lining up in almost ironic ways, as if something behind the scenes was laughing.

Even so, in that moment, she couldn’t help but think: Seriously... did I do something to deserve this? She frowned slightly, an uneasy restlessness creeping back into her mind. Did I unknowingly insult someone’s mother or something?

The idea was absurd... but considering her recent track record, it didn’t feel entirely impossible. Because if there was one thing Emily had learned the hard way, it was that fate didn’t need a reasonable cause. It just needed an opportunity.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her shook violently. Emily felt her balance vanish in seconds, her body reacting on instinct as she grabbed onto anything within reach, a table, the wall, even the air itself, in a desperate attempt to keep her face from slamming into the ground.

The tremor, though brief, was strong enough to make the surroundings groan, as if the very structure was being pushed beyond its limits. Then, just as abruptly as it began, it stopped.

A deafening explosion tore through the air immediately after, vibrating through her bones, accompanied by a brutally intense light that burst before her eyes. The brightness was so overwhelming it seemed to pierce through her closed eyelids, forcing Emily to shield her face with her arm as she staggered back, completely blinded for a few seconds.

The light didn’t vanish right away, it receded slowly, like a reluctant tide, allowing distorted shapes to gradually return to Emily’s field of vision. Elongated shadows, unstable outlines... the world still felt wrong.

It was at that moment that Laura’s voice cut through the silence, hesitant and trembling: “Uh... boss... does a blinding white light shooting up into the sky count as a possible deadly apocalyptic situation?” There was a nervous humor in her words, but the slight shake in her voice gave away her true state of mind.

Emily didn’t immediately understand what her friend and colleague was trying to say. Laura’s words felt disjointed, until Emily followed the direction of her gaze. Through the jagged hole in the wall, torn open by the brutal impact of the [Angel of Death] when she had been hurled by the priest, an impossible sight revealed itself.

Beyond it, slicing across the horizon like a divine blade, stood a colossal pillar of light. It pierced the sky effortlessly, scattering clouds around it and bathing everything in an ethereal, almost suffocating glow. For a moment, Emily fell silent.

She had no idea what that pillar was. She didn’t know its origin, its purpose, let alone how dangerous it might become. And yet, there was something deeply wrong about the sight. Something that didn’t need logic to be understood.

If there was one thing Emily was certain of, even if, deep down, she wasn’t certain about anything at all right now, it was that pillars of light reaching into the heavens were never a good sign. Or rather... they usually marked the beginning of some kind of apocalypse.

“Oh! This brings back a few memories...” As Emily drifted into dark, self-deprecating thoughts, a soft, ethereal voice slipped into her mind, pulling her attention back. When she turned her head, she found herself face to face with an angelic-looking anomaly floating beside her.

The anomaly hovered in the air as if gravity were nothing more than a distant suggestion. Its wings, though delicate, didn’t move, and yet it remained suspended, surrounded by a faint distortion in the space around it. Its posture was relaxed, almost bored, nothing Emily hadn’t seen before.

“I remember back then... everything was darkness” the anomaly said, slowly nodding up and down. The gesture was strangely cute and childish, but coming from this particular anomaly, it only made things more unsettling.

Its voice carried a nostalgic yet hollow tone: “Nekra and Tenebrya really loved that kind of environment...” it continued, letting out a soft sigh that didn’t seem to require air: “Personally, it made my skin and hair stand on end” Emily tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing in genuine confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, laced with disbelief. At the question, the anomaly slowly turned its face toward Emily.

Its eyes, or whatever occupied that space, rested on her for a brief moment. Then, with a casual shrug, it replied in a bored, indifferent tone: “I’m talking about the creation of the universe. The moment my sisters and I created everything” It tilted its head slightly, and a trace of displeasure crossed its expression, subtle, but unmistakable.

“Those times... before we shaped everything... were dark” It paused dramatically, as if reliving the sensation: “Literally dark. And as a being of light, I have to say, constant darkness does absolutely nothing for my beauty”

Emily frowned, a strange unease forming in the pit of her stomach. The words were absurd, completely outside any acceptable logic, but the anomaly’s casual tone made everything even more disturbing.

Beside her, Laura seemed just as affected. Her eyes were wide, her breathing uneven before she finally managed to speak: “W-wait! D-does that mean...” She swallowed hard, trying to organize her thoughts: “...you were responsible for the Big Bang?”

Her voice trembled, nearly breaking at the end. Her mouth hung open at a comical angle, unable to hide her shock. For a moment, silence settled in. The anomalies exchanged glances, a quick gesture, yet filled with genuine confusion, as if trying to understand what, exactly, Laura meant.

“Big Bang...?” Althea repeated, uncertainty coloring her soft voice. Her golden eyes, shining like the sun itself, blinked slowly as if trying to piece together an old memory.

“So that’s what humans decided to call what we did...” Eryanis murmured, more to himself than to the others. A faint smile curved his lips, carrying a quiet pride mixed with a subtle hint of surprise, like an artist discovering their work had endured through ages without them.

“Uhh... that’s a little embarrassing...” Nyara whispered, her voice fading as she looked away. She raised a hand to her face, partially covering her cheeks in a shy gesture, though the soft blush still slipped through her fingers, a failed attempt to hide her embarrassment.

Tenebrya, on the other hand, the youngest among them, remained silent. Her eyes wandered from one sister to another, attentive and curious, absorbing every reaction, every nuance. She tilted her head slightly, like someone observing a fascinating riddle, wondering, not for the first time, what exactly her beloved sisters were talking about.